


Maybe Not

by novacita (actually_satan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actually_satan/pseuds/novacita
Summary: Dean thinks he's a top. No, maybe he's a power bottom. Okay, maybe not...





	Maybe Not

“ _I’m a top.”_

The words seemed so irrelevant now that he straddled Sam, riding his little brother’s cock. He balanced himself with a hand on Sam’s chest where their fingers intertwined, a quick rise and fall of his hips as he fucked himself down.

Maybe Dean wasn’t a top, not with the way Sam fit inside him, how he hit every spot that gave him the most euphoric feeling ever. That was fine. He could take it up the ass and be a man about it. Besides, he was the one on top, completely in control of what was happening. Yes, even when Sam grabbed his thighs and started fucking up into him. Complete control.

So, maybe Dean wasn’t a top, but a power bottom. Sure, he could work with that. It had ‘power’ in the name, after all, and if Dean was anything, it was powerful. That was something he could be proud of. Dean was a  **power**  bottom, emphasis on the power.

Maybe not.

Sex with Sam felt good. That was a conclusion Dean came to the first time it happened and the next few times weren’t unlike the first. Sam was pretty gentle with him. Not in the 'treat like glass’ sort of way, but more like a non-constricting sort of way. Dean had been on top those few times. That was, he rode Sam on the bed, then on a chair, and then the bed again. It always felt good.

Then, one day, Sam walked through the door looking a little irritated and Dean decided, hey, why not take his mind off of it? He held Sam’s collar, gave him a deep kiss, and walked him back into the wall. As soon as Sam’s back hit the wall, their rolls were reversed and Dean was practically slammed against the brick. He would have had more time to be surprised if he didn’t have Sam’s tongue in his mouth and his hard cock pressed against his stomach.

He didn’t have much of a chance to think. If he did, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up naked on his hands and knees with Sam’s big hand pressing his face into the pillow. Maybe he wouldn’t have had Sam pounding into him from behind as he grasped at the sheets, desperately trying not to cry out every time he slammed his prostate. Maybe he wouldn’t have cum the hardest he’d ever had in his life.

He could barely form a coherent thought as he lay on the bed, completely fucked out with the somehow comforting pressure of Sam on his back. After he took a moment to catch his breath and relax into the bed, Dean’s eyes shot open at the stunning realization.

“ _Oh, god,”_   he thought.  _“I’m a **bottom**.”_


End file.
